


Valentine's Day Special

by firerabbit



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29457981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firerabbit/pseuds/firerabbit
Summary: Yuzu is a picky eater
Relationships: Javier Fernández/Yuzuru Hanyu
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50





	Valentine's Day Special

Yuzuru was not a foodie, unlike Javier. When they were still competing together, this difference was not obvious. Javier stuck to a strict diet as an elite skater. After Javier retired, the first thing he did was ask Yuzuru out. The second thing was to ask his sister Laura to ship him a pound of Jamón Ibérico from Spain. If there was one thing Javier loved more than skating, it was Spanish ham. Yuzuru sniffed at the package and refused to taste it, despite Javier’s best efforts to convince him that it was pork sashimi.

A year after they began truly dating, they moved into a cozy apartment with an outsized kitchen that the realtor said they would “love”. That was when Javier realized what a picky eater Yuzuru was. Sure, he had his weaknesses. He occasionally surprised Javier by getting family-sized bags of chips on their grocery runs, saying, “I sweat a lot. I need salt.” But mostly Yuzuru preferred his steady diet of rice, vegetables and a lean meat stew prepared by a food startup that offered Asian soup subscriptions. Their freezer usually contained a dozen or so single-serving portions, easy and convenient.

A week ago, the soup start-up notified their customers they were “temporarily halting operations until they could resolve supply-side disruptions”.

Javier came home from the gym and found Yuzuru with his head inside the freezer door.

“Yuzu?”

“…Hi, Javi.”

“Baby, what are you doing? You’ll catch a cold.”

“I have only one left.”

“Huh?”

Yuzuru shut the freezer and leaned on the kitchen island, looking crestfallen as he declared, “Tomorrow. I run out of soup tomorrow.”

Javier wanted to laugh, but instinct told him to bite his cheek. He’s just never seen Yuzuru looking so down about, well, food.

“You want me to cook something? Let me think. What would be good…”

Yuzuru raised a brow. “Cook _your_ food?”

Too excited, Javier continued brainstorming aloud. “…or fabada Asturiana might be good for this weather. Add beans, pork shank, and some—wait. What do you mean _my_ food?”

Yuzuru shrugged. “Food I can’t eat when I compete.”

They’ve been over this before. When they began living together, Javier cooked all of Yuzuru’s dinners. It was that or takeout, which Yuzuru hated. But nothing he cooked seemed to hold a candle to Yumi’s recipes. Missing his mother’s cooking, Yuzuru ate less and less, until Brian and Tracy warned that he was losing stamina at practice. That was when they found the soup company. Recalling how anemic Yuzuru looked at the time, Javier vowed he would always take care of Yuzuru’s needs.

Javier smiled gamely. “Let me try at least. What do you like, fish? I’ll buy some trout tomorrow. Keep it simple with lemon, salt and olive oil. You’re gonna love it.”

Yuzuru did not love it. Javier cooked a whole trout. He even gave Yuzuru the crispier side, which he himself preferred, because it had a hint of fragrant char. Yuzuru ate slowly, flake by flake, asked for more rice and vegetables, and when Javier asked him how it tasted, looked up with a smile that only a lover would know was fake.

It reminded him of how Yuzuru looked after their first time, after Javier came early. He’d been lost in the lovemaking, lost in Yuzuru, really. He momentarily forgot that Yuzuru had more than a season’s worth of training in stamina-building. Having misjudged the timing, he curled up on his side feeling like a failure. Yuzuru shook his shoulders, soothed, “It was…good,” and gazed down at him with so much affection that it made up for the white lie.

Javier tried other recipes. He made variations of his favorite childhood meals—lighter, with meat substitutes, brothier, more suitable for Yuzuru’s taste. But the more he compromised on his greatest hits, the more he realized that he was making things that neither of them liked eating. There was never a dish that they both loved. If he cooked it exactly how Yumi would have made it, Javier woke up in the middle of the night craving something junky. If he cooked the way _he_ wanted, Yuzuru went hungry. There was no question in his mind what the right choice was. But he was getting tired of playing chef.

“Yuzu, come here and choose dinner.”

“Dinner?” Yuzuru sank down on the couch next to him.

“Yep. Here—you can slide through the filters. There’s vegetarian, vegan, Asian, Mexican, anything you like. A bunch of new restaurants got added to our delivery range. There’s plenty to pick from, not like before.”

“…What about you?”

Javier nuzzled his shoulder. “I’ll eat anything you pick. Promise.”

Yuzuru looked at the computer screen, then back at Javier, then back at the screen; his forehead creased with indecision.

“Really, I promise to like what you like.”

Yuzuru’s hand hovered over the mouse. He looked at Javier again, raised his brows as if to say, _Don’t say I didn’t warn you_ , and then he made his choice.

Then he made a few more. Yuzuru liked the delivery app so much he created his own account and volunteered to choose dinner every night. At first he picked his own meals and asked Javier to choose his own, but he was having so much fun, that Javier decided to give him all the responsibility. _It’s worth it to see him so happy_ , Javier consoled himself every time his own heart sank a little becausejackfruit was substituted for chicken in his biryani, or because he bit into some yellow crumble in his burrito thinking it was egg, instead of “egg”, as Yuzuru cheerfully explained with finger quotes. _Those damn, elegant, beautiful fingers_ , Javier thought.

One evening they were watching the Super Bowl. The Americans across the border hyped up the event annually. A few Canadians he knew enjoyed American football. Others just liked having an excuse to kick back with friends. Javier was firmly in the latter group. In years past, he spent the day with Toronto friends. This year it was just Yuzuru and him.

The game turned out to be a blow-out. Yuzuru laid his head on Javier’s shoulder, yawned. Javier kissed his head, which glowed blue-black in the darkness, and stifled a yawn.

A sportscaster during the post-game review said, “…and Tom Brady is officially the G.O.A.T. Reports are that former coach Bill Belichick sent him congratulatory…”

“ _Goat_?” Yuzuru asked. His breath smelled sweet from the hard cider that Javier was nursing and that he snuck a few sips from. “English is so strange. A man is not a goat.”

Javier chuckled. “Really? Because I’m staring at one right now.”

Yuzuru’s eyebrows squished together. Then, like knowledge dawning, he widened his eyes. “Haha. And Javi is a squirrel.”

“No, I mean—you’ve never heard of yourself called that? It means greatest of all time. Which you are.”

“Oh...” Yuzuru’s cheeks flushed. It was incredible to see his words trigger such a reaction in him, even after all these years. Javier liked to think Yuzuru spent his first year in Canada alternating between running away from his tickles and asking for them.

A commercial came on for Pop Eye’s Chicken, announcing their new Cajun Flounder Sandwich. Javier’s stomach rumbled. Yuzuru looked down in question. To distract him, Javier pointed to the TV. “Remember our first date? We were starving in Russia and you caught me sneaking out of the Olympic village to go to McDonald’s. You wanted to come with.”

Yuzuru pressed up against his side. “Mm hmm. I ordered the…fish sandwich.”

  
“Yeah, Filet-O-Fish.”

“It was not good. But worse to make you eat alone.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t have minded. You could have split my burger and fries.”

Yuzuru wrinkled his nose. “I just wanted to be near you.”

“I know, baby. That’s when I knew.”

The post-game review went on. The talking heads seemed caught off guard by the blow-out victory of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Having run out of talking points, they were now describing the Brady diet, how he kept fit, the influences of his supermodel wife Gisele…

At the mention of Brady’s nutrition plan, Yuzuru turned his attention back to the program. After a few minutes of listening, translating and processing, he nodded, saying, “All _goats_ have to be careful with their food. Not just me.”

Javier laughed. “I agree.”

“Iswhy he looks handsome for his age,” Yuzuru mused, looking at the screen.

Javier frowned. He looked between Yuzuru and the TV. The quarterback’s rugged features, his deep-set blue eyes, emphasized by the glare-preventative black stripes beneath…Javier could not deny the athlete looked great for his age. But he was secure enough to acknowledge that, right? Definitely.

Yuzuru tapped his chin and turned to Javier with that look that presaged one of his aphorisms. What was it going to be this time? Javier thought he should keep a notebook, there were so many Yuzu-isms that delighted him.

“I want Javi to look good when he’s old too.”

Javier removed his arm from where he had it draped across Yuzuru’s shoulder. “What makes you think I won’t?”

Yuzuru tutted. “If you keep a good diet with me—”

“That again.”

Yuzuru closed his mouth. He asked gently, “Why are you angry?”

The silence dragged on. Javier fumed in his seat. Yuzuru rubbed his arms and whined. Feeling himself softening, he said, “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“But…you can say anything to me.”

As if the devil flew into him, the words came out before Javier even registered himself speaking. “Gisele looks pretty good for her age. She has amazing hair.”

Yuzuru gave him an intense, cold stare. He directed his chin at the TV, and said, with his eyes trained on Javier, “She looks good.”

Shit. Javier racked his brain, looking for a way out of the mess he’s made.

“Sorry, it was just a joke. I’m sorry. I _mean_ , she’s all right, nothing compared to you—you don’t—you can’t seriously—”

Yuzuru had inched away from him. “…But I have better hair.”

Javier paced the living room, one hand running through his hair, the other hand holding his phone as he talked to Laura on speaker. It’s been a few days since the Super Bowl incident, and things have returned to normalcy, sort of. The day after, instead of going straight home after the gym, Javier acted on impulse and drove to a burger joint where he ordered himself an early dinner. He didn’t know how long Yuzuru was going to be angry, and he didn’t want to argue on an empty stomach. But Yuzuru acted like nothing happened. It made him nervous.

“…and with Valentine’s day coming up, I just don’t know, Laura. It’s not the best time to tell him.”

“Javi.” Laura’s voice was steady and reassuring. “It’s just food. You didn’t used to care so much, not even when you were stuck eating crap following that good-for-nothing coach. Why such a big deal?”

“It’s not! It’s not…but it’s a big deal for him. I mean, I get it. What isn’t? But I just wish…I wish he’d meet me halfway. He liked none of Mama’s recipes. None. It’s like he’s not even trying.”

“He’s still competing, it’s going to be hard to change his ways. You should know.”

“And I’m coaching! It takes so much more energy than I realized. When I come home, I just want to eat something _I_ like.”

“I understand, but there has to be something you both like…”

“I’m beginning to doubt it exists—oh, that’s him at the door. I gotta go.”

“Wait, Javi—”

“Bye, love you.” Javier hung up. He didn’t want to start a fight with Yuzuru, which was inevitable if Yuzuru found out he was complaining about him behind his back. “We have to be honest. We can’t choke down what we are thinking, not with each other,” Yuzuru would always say. That sounded easy—for someone who never shied away from confrontation and who could negotiate his way out of anything. Javier didn’t feel he could be as eloquent.

“Javi?”

Javier bounded into the hallway, phone in hand. “How was practice?”

“Good. Tired. I need…” Yuzuru’s eyes drifted briefly to the phone in his hand. “Need more training.” He toed off his sneakers. “Are you hungry?”

Six days and six burgers for _pre-dinner_ later, and Javier was beginning to feel buyer’s remorse. He became less sure that his visits to the restaurant—which he told Yuzuru were extra gym sessions— were actually about getting his fill of red meat rather than an act of rebellion. The cashier gave him a coupon for a free “Original Style” burger if he bought two of their special Melted Cheeseburgers. He shook his head ruefully; he could never imagine Yuzuru enjoying a burger with him. The idea made him feel sad and a little ridiculous.

On Valentine’s Day, he came home to find Yuzuru waiting for him in the living room.

“Hi, baby.”

“Where you have been?”

“…Gym? Like yesterday.”

“Really.” Yuzuru pinned him down with a stare.

Javier hung his jacket, then grabbed a glass from the cupboard and began filing it from the tap to avoid looking at Yuzuru. “Why are you back so early?”

“Brian and Tracy had plans with their family. I don’t want to train alone.” 

“Oh.”

“But I’m alone anyway.”

Javier looked up and almost dropped the glass when he saw tears pooling in Yuzuru’s eyes. Instantly he went over to his side. “Baby? Why are you crying? Did something happen?”

Yuzuru swatted at his hands. He pulled his phone out and showed him a traced route. “You went to a restaurant. Not gym.”

“You _tracked_ me?” Javier remembered, too late, that their phones’ built-in GPS detected the other. It seemed romantic at the time; even when they were not in the same country, they could imagine being together. He forgot all about it because they stopped using the function during quarantine.

“You. Lied.”

Javier ground his teeth. “And you didn’t trust me.”

“Because every day you are not where you say. Why?”

Javier breathed out. Yuzuru’s pale, furious face did not exactly beckon truth. Looking away, he muttered, “I just wanted a burger.”

Yuzuru blinked. “A _burger_?”

“See? That’s why I didn’t tell you. Why does it matter anyway? You wouldn’t have gone with me had I asked.”

After a few seconds, Yuzuru regained his composure, or at least his voice became steady and he stopped crying. “You should order that for dinner if you want it.”

“Forget it.”

“Javi, do you…not like what I order?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Another “forget it” hung on his tongue but he choked down the half-formed words, when he saw a red flush spread across Yuzuru’s face. He cleared his throat and gently scratched the back of Yuzuru’s hand. _I’m not ignoring_ you, he thought. _I just don’t know what to say to make this better._

“You can tell me anything.”

“I know.”

Yuzuru sighed. “You shouldn’t promise to like what I like…”

“When’d I say that?”

“Weeks ago. Don’t argue. I have good memory.” He turned over the hand that Javier was scratching and caught Javier’s fingers. “We should only promise what we mean, no? And you love food. More than me.”

“I love you more than food.”

Yuzuru laughed softly. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t want to make this a big deal.”

“Is not.”

“I just wish you like what I like sometimes too.”

Yuzuru quirked his lips. “I like _you_. Is not enough?”

“Yes…and no? You are so honest about what you like, what you dislike. And it’s great, but it’s almost like—I don’t know—non-negotiable? Like you’re laying down the terms and saying take it or leave it.”

Yuzuru listened, nodding the whole time he was speaking, and even after he finished. He turned his head this way and that, like he was going back through their history, back-checking Javier’s claims against what he remembered. Finally, he lifted his eyes to Javier’s. There was a look of…understanding.

“I’m very sorry, Javi. If that’s how I make you feel. I—you—this is not a _contract_.” Yuzuru gave a shy, hopeful smile. “But even in a contract, I should learn to…compromise? Is that the word…” Yuzuru trailed off in Japanese, as he did sometimes when unsure about a translation.

Javier offered, “You got it right. Compromise.” He squeezed his hand.

The next day Javier went to the burger joint. He ordered two cheesy melts and got a third for free. The cashier asked if he wanted their hand-dipped milk shakes. It was tempting but Javier shook his head. _Baby steps._

On the way home he rehearsed a short speech along the lines of how he and Yuzuru should incorporate cheat days into their diets. So foused on the challenge at hand, he almost didn’t notice the delicious smell wafting into the hallway when he came home.

A large Pop Eyes paper bag sat on the counter.

“What’s this? Fried chicken?” he said to himself.

He put the burgers on the counter. Yes, in the bag there was a Cajun Flounder Sandwich, fries, the works. God, even a sweet tea. Everything was a bit cold, like it was delivered some time ago. He felt goosebumps. Where was Yuzuru? Where was Effie? She would have gorged on the feast long ago.

Keys jingled in the door and Yuzuru appeared in the hallway with pet carrier in one hand and a grocery bag in the other.

“Hi, Javi.”

He kissed Yuzuru in reply and took Effie from his hand. The cat meowed ferociously. She clawed at the mesh panel facing the counter.

Yuzuru gestured at the food on the counter. “This is dinner. I hope you like it? I went to get chips and soda…” He did a double take at the stack of burgers. “What? You bought something too?”

Javier grinned sheepishly.

“Wow, this is so good,” Yuzuru said mid-chew. His small face disappeared behind the fried fish sandwich every time he tucked in. Javier was of two minds, but not about the food, which was fantastic. Yuzuru had tartar sauce on the rim of his lips but he wasn’t wiping it away at every bite like he would normally do. Should Javier alert him? Or should he enjoy the sight for a few more seconds? Or maybe, a wicked thought occurred to him, Yuzuru already knows.

Javier smiled and shook his head. Not everything was performance. The sandwich was probably just that good. Just like this burger. He picked off a piece and offered it to Effie. She swatted at his hand and meowed at Yuzuru for more fish.

With gentle _mm_ ’s Yuzuru asked Effie to be patient (Javier’s best guess at the Japanese words that followed) while he picked the fried breading off the fish for her. Effie headbutted his foot and purred.

After Effie was fed, Yuzuru grabbed the nearest napkin, dribbled water on it, and dabbed at his lips. “Javi, here”—he pushed the plate to him—“I saved half for you. Try it. You’ll like it.”

Javier pushed his own plate forward. “I saved half for you, too.”


End file.
